


A New Beginning.

by Jessiikaa15



Series: What They Want To See. [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Acting, Altered Ritual, Bribing, Chamber of Secrets, Confident Harry, Different Graveyard, Duelling, Groundings of a future relationship, History is written by the victor, How not to look like James Potter, How to catch a potions master 101, Language, Oaths, Prequel, Reasonable Dark Lord, Research Genius Hermione, Slight Obsession, Smart Harry, Strategy and Tactics Ron, The Golden Trio, Violence, We're in this together, questions and answers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 17:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3945589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessiikaa15/pseuds/Jessiikaa15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is not as blind to the truth of the wizarding world, every story has two sides and he decides its time to find out the truth behind the Dark Lord and his followers. In order to do that he's going to need all the help he can get. Things are moviing, ties are breaking and everything can change with just one word. Prequel to The Prize</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Beginning.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tainted-tash (tainted_tash)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tainted_tash/gifts).



> This is a Prequel.
> 
> Written for a friend again.
> 
> Happy late Birthday Tash!!
> 
> A bit of Violence and language, read the tags folks!!
> 
> Enjoy~~

_**A New Beginning;** _

His leg was on fire, and Harry swore that Hagrid was going to get an absolute earful when he returned to the school as he shot a numbing charm and bandages to wrap it up. Honestly, the man and his need to raise and breed lethal creatures was going to be the death of Harry. Damn acromantula. And now, if that wasn't enough, he had won the stupid tournament, no he didn't feel guilty about grabbing the cub before Cedric, and he had ended up in the Graveyard of his dreams. That meant that somewhere around here, the Dark Lord and Wormtail were lingering and that made Harry smirk, it was time to put his research in to play.

As soon as Dumbledore, the fool, had told him that there was a probability that the dreams he was having were actually real Harry had dedicated some of his time to searching of what and why the Dark Lord could possibly need him for. Of course, it had been Hermione that had actually found it, say what you want about the girl, she was a research genius and there was absolutely nothing that she couldn't find should she want to. Of course, this led to a myriad of questions from both Ron and Hermione as to why he would want a resurrection ritual, and a replacement to the crappy one that she had found. This led to him explain his true thoughts and feelings about the wizarding world as a whole, how he was sick of the stagnation of this world, and nothing has ever changed. How he was considering seeing exactly what the dark side was all about if only to see something different from the Wizarding world. They had argued for hours, holed up in the Room of Requirement, screaming at each other, all raising valuable points.

Hermione had pointed out the general hatred to all those of apparent 'lesser birth', and the discrimination they would face should they go to the dark. Ron had pointed out the general lack of morals and the torturing and the killing that had been reported from the dark, Harry's and Neville's parents, Ron's uncles and so many others. But it had been Harry's whose argument has been the most damming of all, and his hadn't been against the dark. He had said to them, quite simply, that they should just look who was in control of the world right now. The discrimination of the 'lesser born' was in full power now, while the 'light' was in power, from Muggleborn to creatures, they were all put down and slandered like they were nothing. There was still a lack of morals, but it was from the government instead of the people, Sirius was sent to prison without a trial, Ron's entire family was attacked for their open point of view, and he, Harry, had been subjected to media attacks, he was left with the Dursleys and he was forced to compete in a tournament that had killed fully trained wizards. And the most damming of all; they knew absolutely nothing, first hand, about the dark.

It was all speculation or words from the people that were in the light, they spoke of the horrors and the tragedy, but what about the other person's perspective? What about those from the dark that the light killed? What about the things that the light blocked from the dark? Things like access to dark magic, the dark magical creatures and races, what about those? Remus, he fought and lost in the light, and he was still treated like a pariah, like he wasn't even worth the air that he breathed. Sirius, he was the same as Remus, he gave up his entire family, his very nature to fight for the light, and they didn't even bother to follow their own laws before he was cast away. If that is what the light did to their fighters, their very best then Harry didn't want anything to do with it. He had asked his friends, what would happen to them if they continued on the path of the light?

If they were treated like they were now, when they were still students and they were still at the Mercy of the government and the teachers, from the light; what would happen when they were actually expected to fight? And if, on the off chance they managed to win, what would happen to them after? Would they still be available as cast offs? The Boy-Who-Lived, the Mudblood and the Youngest Weasley Blood traitor? Is that all that they were worth? Harry had given them that to think about, and think about it they did. It didn't take them long to realise just how much truth was in his words and so they decided, even if it was just the three of them, they would find the answers for themselves and go from there. For that they needed information and a way to speak to someone, someone with actual power, within the dark. Hermione started researching like it was life or death, handing him lists of spells that Harry was to learn no questions asked, and throwing Ron outlines and titles of war tactics that the red head all but inhaled.

Ron turned to the tactics he was being given and started to devise his own, he outlined what he saw in the world like a chess board and it didn't deliver a pretty picture. So Ron sat there, sometimes for hours upon hours without moving more than his arm, figuring out a way in which they could gain the information needed and still come out of the situation alive and together. While the other two researched and planned, Harry trained. Every single day he was in the Room of Requirement going over the spells that Hermione gave him, practicing repeatedly until he could do them silently, and then teaching his friends how to do them too. He never asked Hermione where she got the spells, and he didn't question the different feelings some of the magic gave him or the fact that some spells left him feeling more drained than if they were from a regular fourth or even fifth year book, because he trusted her and that was enough.

He also looked for his own spells, ones that would get him through the tournament alive and in one piece, ones that wouldn't be too odd for a fourth year to know. Harry took the time and quizzed Sirius and Remus for information of the last war, anything and everything, the good and the bad and it was a lot more informative than just 'the dark are evil and cruel'. Of course, this made them highly suspicious, but they let him be, assuring him that they would be there for him no matter what. Harry made his way through the tournament, drawing first place with Cedric and making his way through the maze with ease. Ron had warned him, and they had prepared for, something to happen during the final task. With the dreams of the Dark Lord and his entrance in the tournament, it hadn't been difficult to work out that the tournament was a front to get Harry away from Dumbledore's so called protection.

That was why Harry wasn't surprised to find himself in the graveyard, just very pissed off at that precise moment. His scar burst in to flames alerting him that the Dark Lord was closer and he forced himself to remain on his feet.

"Seize him, Wormtail." Voldemort hissed, and the rat scurried towards him. Harry had his wand out and had stunned and bound Wormtail before the vermin had gotten within five feet of him. Harry slowly approached the Dark Lord, raising an eyebrow and the homunculus form he was currently taking. The man hissed at him making his scar flare with even more pain and Harry took a deep breath to push back the burn, he help up his hands in a peace gesture, holding his wand by the tip to show that he wasn't about to curse the man.

"I come in peace?" Harry tried, his statement coming out as a question.

"Was that a question or a statement?" Voldemort demanded and Harry blinked.

"A statement?" Harry said, sounding like a question again and he swore the Dark Lord rolled his eyes.

"Are you incapable of speaking in the correct tone?" Voldemort questioned and Harry looked at him affronted.

"What are you? My Professor?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Obviously not, else you would be able to speak correctly." Voldemort sniffed and Harry blinked.

"What?"

"What in Merlin's name are they teaching in the castle?" He wondered and Harry shook his head.

"Can we please get back to what we are supposed to be doing?" Harry exclaimed, extremely weirded out by the entire conversation.

"You approached me, Potter." Voldemort pointed out, "And I am of a slight disadvantage due to my… aid." Harry snorted at the delayed answer to what Wormtail was.

"Yes. Well. You should probably get better 'aid'." Harry pointed out.

"Your advice is something I shall cherish for eternity." Voldemort informed him dryly.

"Wow. That was Snape level of sarcasm. I am impressed." Harry said, "Anyway, as to the origins of me coming over and not getting the hell out of here like a sane person, I think we need to talk."

"Then talk, I shall kill you after."

"See, this is what we need to talk about. You not killing me, it would be great thanks." Harry said brightly, and, somehow, Voldemort managed to raise his eyebrow.

"Speak, Potter."

"Me and some concerned friends came to the realisation that we nothing of the so called dark side." Harry told him, "So, me and the same concerned friends, decided that we needed to actually talk to someone who held power within the dark, and as I would rather throw Malfoy from the Astronomy Tower, it left us with the head snake himself. You."

"You couldn't wait to speak to me when I had a body?" Voldemort demanded.

"Well no, because you kind of want to kill me." Harry pointed out.

"Wake Wormtail up and allow him to resurrect me immediately." The Dark Lord ordered and Harry looked at him as if he was insane.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"I have been called insane numerous of times." He confirmed, "But you have made me curious so I won't kill you yet."

"Oh that's reassuring." Harry muttered, "Fine, but I am Harry Potter, and you haven't killed me yet." Voldemort glared at him and Harry offered him a smirk that was equal parts sheepish and smug.

"I am still able to hurt you like this, Potter." Voldemort warned, "Now wake up Wormtail so he can perform the ritual."

"Ok ok," Harry huffed, "I don't know why you insist on that ritual, it's terrible."

"It was the best available." Voldemort gritted out and Harry snorted.

"Yeah, but you don't have your own Hermione." Harry said primly, "She found a much better one, see." Harry pulled out a page from a book and held it up for him to read. It was a variation from the one the Dark Lord was going to use originally, but it was a better one, one that didn't create a shell but a full restoration.

"Where did you find this?" Voldemort wondered, his voice a touch amazed and Harry grinned.

"I told you, I have my own Hermione." Harry said, "Now, do you want your body back?"

"You know the answer to that question." Voldemort hissed and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yes yes, ok. Patience." Harry grumbled. He flicked his wand and floated the water filled caldron over to its place and lit a fire underneath it, he picked up the bundle containing the Dark Lord and carried him over to the cauldron.

"Stop trying to kill me with a glare, I'm not going to kill you. Besides, you haven't got much choice and even if I did kill you, you'd, no doubt, come back to hunt me down." Harry exclaimed and the death rays shooting from the homunculus' red eyes lessened to a degree. "Merlin,"

"I swear, if anything goes wrong with this Potter, I will come back and I will slaughter everything you hold dear and then torture until your very brain melts." Voldemort threatened and Harry gave him a look of exasperation.

"I see it wasn't your charming personality that gained you so many minions." Harry said dryly.

"Potter! I'm warning you."

"Oh, is that what it is." Harry muttered. "Yeah, just don't melt in the cauldron." Before the Dark Lord could say anything else, Harry dropped him in the water and grinned at the flare of pain he received for his efforts.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son." Harry murmured, summoning some of the dried bone from Tom Riddle Senior's tomb and letting it fall in to the cauldron. The surface sparked and crackled and turned an electric blue, shimmering in the night and Harry blinked at the sudden change of colour. He pulled out the supply bag Hermione and shoved in his pocket and unshrunk it, he grabbed one of the phials there and emptied it in to the cauldron.

"Horn of the unicorn, willingly presented, you will purify and heal this childe of magic."

The potion hissed violently and pure white ripples went across the top until the whole liquid was uniform.

"Earth from the place called home, readily taken, you will ground this man and keep him well." Harry sprinkled the earth from Hogwarts in to the cauldron and watched it fade to a dull grass green, bubbling slightly before settling still. Harry picked up another phial and this one was filled with a deep red liquid and he took a deep breath, this was the biggest risk he was taking with the ritual. The book had said that it required the blood of an equal and they had sat for hours trying to work out what that meant or what that could work out to and in the end Hermione had decided that his blood was the only one that could work. They had argued about it, but she was relentless and Harry hoped that, as per usual, she was right and he poured it in to the cauldron.

"Blood of an equal, freely given, with this you will always meet your match."

It started to boil, frothing and bubbling as it went a bright Avada Kedavra green, like Harry's own aura before settling to a simmer and he released a breath; that had to be a good sign right? He selected the final phial and closed his eyes; this was it.

"Ash from a phoenix, honourably bestowed, you will revive this man." Harry dropped the ash in the cauldron and it instantly went a blinding gold colour, showering the entire graveyard in light and pure gold drops were spitting from it. And then it stopped, leaving the blinding light to get brighter and brighter until Harry couldn't see anything, not even his own nose, before the night was plunged back in to darkness. Harry felt like he was blind, the sudden lack of light making his other senses come alive and he could hear ragged breathing, a new sound and he centred himself, lighting his wand to allow his eyes to adjust. Before him, stood gripping the sides of the cauldron to keep himself vertical, was a man, he was tall, quite scarily so, and slim. Pale skin that held a soft glow, with bright, crimson eyes and a nose that was straight with a slight upturn that seemed to fit the handsome aristocratic face.

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

Whatever Harry was expecting, it wasn't what he was seeing. The man in front of him was an older, more mature version of Tom Riddle, he held more strength in his features that only came with age, and if Harry were to guess, he would assume that the Dark Lord was in his late thirties/early forties. Despite how he looked, Harry knew the man to be in his seventies, and he was astounded at how the resurrection ritual had worked.

"My robes?" His voice was rough, due to the new vocal cords Harry suspected, but it was the tenner of a baritone, one that would later become smooth and persuasive Harry had no doubt. Harry flicked his wand and summoned the robes that Wormtail must have brought, he handed them to the Dark Lord, who slipped them on and stepped out of the cauldron. Now he had regained his balance and equilibrium, the Dark Lord was flexing and examining his new body with a child-like eagerness that Harry felt somewhat honoured to see.

"This is phenomenal." The man whispered, the sound carrying over to Harry easily. "I feel… renewed."

"I am glad our efforts were not in vain." Harry said and the Dark Lord's attention snapped to him.

"You found this, you said you had a Hermione?" The Dark Lord said quietly, curiously, "What is this Hermione?" Harry grinned, it was full of white teeth and triumph.

"Oh Hermione? The one that found and deciphered a new ritual that restored you to your full potential and not a shell? She's just a lowly mudblood, you know, one of the people the dark promote should be exterminated at the quickest possible time." Harry said in utter relish, eyes shining a vivid emerald green as he watched the Dark Lord.

"Is that so?"

"Very much so." Harry agreed, "And even better, it was the blood traitor youngest Weasley boy that worked out that this little meeting would be happening now and allowed us to prepare for it."

"Concerned friends, I take it." Voldemort said and Harry nodded.

"The same."

"You are very pleased with yourself." He noted and Harry snorted.

"You have no idea how much." Harry admitted, "Though, you can't really blame me. You just got a hellava new body, I get my conversation and Wormtail; it's a good night."

"What makes you so sure of yourself?" Voldemort asked and Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Other than the fact that I have your wand and your core is not yet settled enough to cope with wandless magic? Not a lot really."

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed before his expression cleared and he nodded once.

"You have made me curious enough to speak with you, but I do require my wand back." He held out his hand and Harry shrugged.

"Sure, you can't kill me with that anyway." Harry told him, handing it over.

"We talking here or at the house?"

"Let us adjourn to the house, I have a feeling that this conversation is going to take a while." Voldemort decided, turning and leading the way. Harry cleared up the graveyard with a wave of his wand and then skipped over to the man, using his good leg for momentum, walking up the hill. The Dark Lord eyed his cheerful demeanour with unease, giving him a look that clearly questioned his mental state, to which Harry merely smirked. The teen knew exactly what he was doing and what he intended to do, so he wasn't about to reassure the man. He followed the man in to the house and blinked at the state of it, shaking his head as he went and mentally cursing Petunia's influence; he was a bit of a clean freak because of it.

"Dobby," He called and his little elf friend popped in.

"Yes Master Harry Potter sir?"

"How's things back at the castle?"

"They is not being worrying too much yet, sir. They is thinking that the portkey was spelled wrong." He explained.

"Good," Harry said, "You think you and Winky could get this place cleaned? It's raising my blood pressure."

"Oh yes, Master Harry sir, Dobby is knowing that yous is not liking mess too much." He popped away and returned with Winky, and the pair of them immediately got to work, letting Harry sigh in relief.

"Did you just get elves to clean  _my_  house?" Voldemort inquired incredulously and Harry shrugged.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I grew up with muggles that held an OCD. Some things cannot be undone." Harry said and the Dark Lord shook his head.

"I should curse you." He informed the teen, who rolled his eyes behind him.

"Go ahead, see how far that gets you in life."

"Oh, and just what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Voldemort questioned, "You are a fourteen year old child."

"Well it's simple. You curse me, prove that the dark is nothing more than mindless psychopaths ready to curse anyone and everyone that doesn't get down on their knees and profess their undying loyalty to Your Highness, I go back to the light, actively work against you and continue to not let you kill me as per the pattern we've been following." Harry began. "Or, you could sit down, have a conversation with me, possibly persuade me and my concerned friends, and possibly others, to the dark, have me actively work  _with_  you to enable your goals and rewrite the entire wizarding Britain."

"How long have you been thinking about this?" Voldemort asked curiously, "Not only have you come prepared, but you are remarkably different from our last encounter."

"Since the September." Harry answered honestly, "But it was only when my name came out of the goblet did I dedicate my time to actively planning." Voldemort had led him to a study and Harry was happy to see that Dobby and Winky had already worked their magic and left the place gleaming, the Dark Lord blinked as he took in the room before taking a seat at the repaired chair and motioned for Harry to take the other.

"At least your elves are efficient."

"They are brilliant," Harry agreed, "I stole Dobby from the Malfoys."

"Stole?"

"Well, I tricked Malfoy Sr. in to giving Dobby clothes and then had the elf bond sealed to me instead."

"I bet Lucius absolutely  _adored_  that." Voldemort said amused and Harry grinned.

"He liked it even better when Dobby sent him flying down the corridor for trying to attack me." Harry told him and Voldemort actually laughed.

"I wish I had borne witness to such an occurrence."

"It's one for the patronus, for sure." Harry agreed and Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"What do you know of the patronus charm? It usually isn't mentioned until NEWT study."

"The dementors and I do not see eye to… mouth? So I learned to cast it last year." Harry answered blithely, the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes as he looked the teen over. Everything felt so different, his mind was clearer and sharper than it had been in many years, and he could easily pick out the mistakes he had made during the final years of the war before he had been ripped out of his body. Even when he had possessed Quirrell he hadn't felt this collected. But he would have time to analyse that later, currently there was a teenager sat in front of him that was so very different from what he had been told of and what he had witnessed himself, and he wanted answers. What had happened? What was Potter's motive and what did he wish to gain from this? He had not given much away, not really.

"What do you want, Potter?" The Dark Lord finally questioned, "You have come here with a hidden motive, speaking just enough to peak my interest while given nothing away. Rather Slytherin qualities, to be able to accomplish something such as this." Harry flashed an amused smirk at the offhand comment delivered at the end before sitting up straight and looking at the Dark Lord seriously. This was a remarkably different man that what he had met back in first year, even different from the memory version he had seen in second, the air around him even felt different and Harry knew this was the only shot that he was going to have to get the answers he wanted.

"Since I returned to the wizarding world I have heard nothing but proclamations of your evilness, your insanity and your relentless pursuit of power no matter the consequences or the repercussions. I've been told of the corruption of the dark, of their lack of morals and their eagerness to cause pain and suffering. I've bore witness to your desperation and your maliciousness, and I've felt the repercussions of your actions." Harry stated, his voice calm, even.

"I want to know the truth behind the stories, the reason behind the killings. I want to understand why you do what you do, and what the "dark" stands for. And I want to know why you are so determined to kill me. I say me because, despite popular belief, you didn't come after my family that Halloween all those years ago, you were after me and I want to know why." Voldemort looked the teen over, his attention more than peaked and he felt that he had an opportunity here to change things. This boy had so much potential, he could feel it, the magic surrounding him, and the fact that he had the spine to sit opposite him and state such things without so much as a blink gave him a touch of the Dark Lord's respect.

"I will answer each of your questions and respond to your statements with the truth as I know it, however, I would like to know one thing first." Voldemort said and Harry blinked.

"Ok?"

"What makes you so certain that I was coming for you thirteen years ago?"

"One doesn't ask someone to stand aside if they are intending to kill the entire family." Harry replied simply and Voldemort stilled.

"You… you remember that?" He all but whispered and Harry gave him a self-depreciating smile.

"Like I said, the dementors and I have a mutual dislike." Harry said and Voldemort had to take a moment to simply look at the teen in front of him again; he was much stronger than he appeared.

"I see," The Dark Lord frowned slightly before starting to talk. "I am not a nice man, nor have I ever been and I doubt I ever will be, I will not sit and offer you a sob story of how I had a terrible childhood and I knew no better because I wasn't nice child either."

"You grew up in a muggle orphanage, didn't you?" Harry inquired, "I highly doubt that it was nurturing and caring environment for someone…  _different._ "

"I see you know more of me than most, Dumbledore's doing I presume?" Voldemort said, a bite in his voice.

"You would presume wrong then," Harry said.

"I expect an explanation after," Voldemort warned.

"That's fair," Harry agreed and Voldemort continued.

"You would be correct, it was not a nice place to grow up for someone with magic and there birthed my utter contempt for muggles." Voldemort said and Harry nodded, he could understand that, he held a certain contempt for muggles because of the Dursleys.

"During my school years I inadvertently began gathering a following, influential pureblood heirs surrounded me simply because I could do things with magic often believed impossible. It gave me access to those who could answer my questions, I had wondered why a certain section of magic seemed cornered off and forbidden, why entire races of magical beings were scorned and looked upon in disgust, and why further restrictions were being applied daily to a world where magic was its very foundation." Voldemort's voice was smooth as he spoke and Harry found himself unconsciously leaning forward to listen. "I didn't like what I found, and I didn't understand. Surely magic, something so pure and so ingrained was simply magic? I said to you once before; there is no good or evil, only power, and those too weak to seek it. I believe it the same in regard to magic; there is no dark or light, only magic, and those too weak to master it."

"I don't understand." Harry said confused, "What is the difference between light and dark? Surely it cannot be as simple as the dark is evil and the light is good. I can think of multiple first year spells that could cause death or severe injury."

"You see my problem." Voldemort said with a nod of his head, "By the time I arrived at the school, Dumbledore had already defeated Grindlewald and was hailed a hero, it was the prime time for Dumbledore, if he said something then it was taken as gospel. And by the time I was asking my questions it had become a taboo to speak about it. Dark magic is, simply, wild magic, while the spells currently defined as light magic are what is known as static magic. The 'light' spells, the ones that are taught in school and used every day, use an incantation and wand movements to direct the magic and manipulate it to do the caster's bidding, they are controlled and focused. Dark magic, on the other hand, takes a lot of control, focus and will power to cast and direct it to do the caster's bidding, many of the spells classified as dark magic hold no wand movement and you have to want the desired spell to work. The Cruciatus curse is the easiest to use as an example, you have to want to cause pain in order for it to work." Harry was fascinated by the explanations and his mind had exploded in questions, they must have showed on his face because Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"The Cruciatus curse is one of the three unforgivables and you just said that you have to want to cause pain to cast it, wouldn't that make it one of the spells that illustrated that dark magic is only used to harm?" Harry asked and the Dark Lord looked oddly pleased with his question.

"No, simply because you do not need to want to cause pain maliciously. The origin of the Cruciatus curse has long been forgotten, because of the more modern actions regarding the curse and the effects long term exposure can cause." Voldemort told him.

"What is the origin then, if not to hurt?"

"Like many of the supposed dark spells, the Cruciatus curse was designed to heal not harm. I am sure you have heard of electro-shock therapy?" Voldemort looked at him and Harry nodded slowly, shocked by what he was finding out.

"Where did you get this information, you said it had been forgotten." He said slowly.

"It is mentioned in many old medical books, around the late thirteenth century it was regarded as a medical breakthrough. It was able to heal nerves that the brain had not registered as damaged, a few short doses of the spell and it would send signals to the brain that it needed healing from the pain caused when the spell wasn't actually causing any damage." Voldemort explained and Harry made note to set Hermione on that ASAP; he didn't want to take the man for his work without being able to find it himself.

"Ok, I think I understand." Harry said thoughtfully.

"Once I had found the information and then discovered, for myself, what the supposed light and dark magic was then I began questioning why we were being restricted. Why hide a part of who we all are? Surely it would be more practical, more safe, to teach everyone, from a young age, how to control all types of magic instead of banning it and having inexperienced, naïve people stumble upon it and become consumed by its addictive nature and lose control of themselves and the magic?"

"That does make more sense." Harry agreed, "Especially given that not all dark magic is hidden, private libraries, I expect, are filled with books considered illegal."

"You are correct, and have brought up an entirely separate part of the dark agenda." Voldemort acknowledged, "I had already gained a following, so when I began speaking of my views they spread quickly. Old pureblood familys, those who held private libraries filled with banned tomes regaled my words, following me and creating a cause. I was set to become the youngest minister for magic since records began, but I was opposed; Dumbledore had never liked me."

"Why am I not surprised." Harry muttered.

"When Dumbledore arrived on the scene, I suddenly became the opposition. I was dark and evil, trying to corrupt the light and pure world that we lived in. And so the war began. I refused to back down and allow magic to wilt simply because of people's fear, and for that I needed more followers; so I utilised what I already had. Purebloods."

"I never did understand your manic belief in the pureblood agenda." Harry mused, "I took quite a bit of amusement at the thought of Malfoy and his hatred of anything not pureblood bowing to you."

"It gathered followers and wealthy backers, but before I knew it we had descended in to war." The Dark Lord remembered, "The purebloods wished to remove the muggle influence taking over our world and Dumbledore wanted us to mix with muggles and make peace, and suddenly it was about muggle hatred and evil magic against peace and purity; it spiralled."

"So what of it is actually true, what is it that you actually want to accomplish?" Harry asked.

"I want magic to be free and I want this to be the  _magical_  world, we are not muggles so why the incessant need to celebrate and remember muggle holidays when we have our own?"

"We have our own holidays?" Harry repeated surprised, "I only know of Samhain, and that's because Siri told me about it."

"This is exactly my point, we have eight of our own main holidays to celebrate, which hold different rituals and magics throughout the year." The Dark Lord told him, "Shouldn't we be respecting those instead of adapting to the muggles?"

"But its not the muggleborns' fault for not respecting the holidays, they don't know about them."

"There lies the problem, the ministry have declared all the rituals belonging to your holidays as dark magic, therefore all the information about them have been removed from the shelves, making the mudbloods ignorant and igniting the anger of the purebloods as they cling on to their muggle holidays. Which then makes the mudbloods cling tighter, because the purebloods are angered and try to push them out because it seems as if they refuse to let go and adapt to the magical world because the ministry have banned all of the rituals and information regarding our holidays."

"So you use the purebloods to get backing and money to fund and move everything, saying that you will get rid of the muggle influence and the muggleborns clinging to their holidays, and in turn, you remove the bans and the restrictions from the ministry, make the muggleborns and the ignorant aware of the magical holidays and the restrictions to stop the pureblood anger and free magic to as it should be?" Harry summarised and the Dark Lord blinked but nodded.

"That is the basis, yes."

"Where did the marking, the killing, the torturing and so on come from?"

"It was easier to remove the opposition than it was to convert them. I will admit, during the later years of the war, my followers got more and more angry, and I got extremely lax in my command, and that fuelled them enough to commit the acts that are whispered about today." Voldemort allowed, "And the mark is used as a communication device, I can call my followers to me, and if the situation is dyer enough they can call me to them." Harry nodded.

"Ok, I get that." Harry said, "Why me?"

"Did Dumbledore never tell you why?" Voldemort questioned, "I would have thought after your first year he would have informed you."

"Dumbledore likes to spew shit." Harry pointed out and Voldemort nodded in agreement.

"In the November before you were born, one of my Death Eaters came to me with the news of a prophecy. He had only heard the first half of it, but it had been clear." Voldemort explained and Harry looked at him in disbelief.

"You came after me over a prophecy. Divination, really?" His voice could not be more full of scorn and derision if he tried.

"Scoff if you will, but there is an entire room in the Department of Mysteries dedicated to storing all spoken prophecies." Voldemort informed him and Harry raised an eyebrow.

"That's a giant waste of time." He stated, "Most predictions only come true if you do something to set the chain in motion. What was the prophecy, anyway?"

"It began with: the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies." Voldemort recited and Harry blinked.

"So I'm supposed to have the power to vanquish you?" Harry said sceptically, "Whatever! In any case, it's already passed. Vanquish is not a synonym for death, and I think spending thirteen years as a spirit is enough vanquishing."

"I have come to realise my mistake in my hasty decision, but at the time I had nearly won the war and you were a threat that I could not afford to ignore." Voldemort agreed.

"I… understand." Harry said eventually, "I don't agree with it, I honestly think it was a stupid move, but I understand why you did it."

"I think you are the first person to ever call me stupid to my face." Voldemort mused and Harry cracked a half smile.

"What can I say? I have a severe lack of self-preservation." He told him, only half kidding, "What about first year?"

"I had been a floating spirit for ten years, I would have done just about anything to get a body back and you were there, a scrawny eleven year old child, stopping me." Voldemort snapped and Harry sneered at him.

"Poor you, suffering in a sprit like form." Harry muttered venomously, "I'll see your spirit form and raise you beaten, starved and living in a cupboard under the stairs for ten years, thanks to your oh so wonderful decision." Voldemort blinked twice.

"Excuse me? You are Harry Potter."

"Yes, your point?"

"I assumed that you would have had people lining up to take you, not only did you get rid of me but you are the sole Potter heir."

"Yeah, common misconception that. Me growing up in the life of luxury." Harry agreed spitefully, "One shared by the many, they seem to believe that I lived like a prince and had everything handed to me on a silver platter. Well, let me inform you that I was the one  _holding_  the silver platter while my vicious, hateful, magic-phobic muggle aunt and her equally spiteful husband and son took whatever they wanted and used me however they pleased." His tone was bitter and hateful but his expression calm. "Assumptions, Dark Lord, can ruin everything."

"I am coming to understand that to a greater degree." Voldemort said quietly, a glint of something in his red eyes that Harry couldn't interpret and he wasn't so sure that he wanted to either. "What brought you to begin questioning what you were being told?"

"I don't really know." Harry answered with a frown, "Logic depicts that there are always two sides to every story, and I wanted to know what that other side was. It's all well as good that people say the dark side murder the light witches and wizards, but what about the people in the dark that have been killed by the light?"

"Very few people ask that." Voldemort noted surprised and Harry offered him a wry expression.

"I, unfortunately, cannot be classified, in any sense of the word, as normal."

"That is true." Voldemort allowed, "I wish for your explanation of how you came to know of my origins, if not for Dumbledore." Harry grimaced slightly, his instincts telling him that the Dark Lord was not going to like what he was about to be told.

"Just remember that it was not my fault, I had no choice and I was not the instigator in this situation." Harry told him with a sigh.

"I am not going to like this, am I?" Voldemort asked and Harry looked at him seriously.

"Absolutely not."

"Wonderful." He muttered, "Very well."

"In my second year, strange attacks began plaguing the castle and the students and staff alike were riddled with fear and confusion. They were gaining momentum and it looked as if the school was going to close." Harry said calmly, and on his last sentence the Dark Lord suddenly paid a lot more attention, he gave Harry a sharp look and Harry bit back a wince.

"I know of very few things that would cause the school to risk closure, it happened once when I attended the school myself." He said slowly and Harry looked at him.

"The same thing happened again." Harry stated and Voldemort gave him an unreadable look.

"That's not possible. I was not in range of the castle in your second year, and there is no other… Lucius!" He hissed the Malfoy seniors name and Harry could not find it in himself to pity the blond, he had a severe dislike for the man that rivalled very few.

"Yeah, he'd be the one." Harry agreed without blinking.

"And what." Voldemort's voice was sharp and biting, "Happened to my diary once it had entered the school?"

"Ah, well," Harry scratched his head and offered the most sincere, innocent and slightly pleading expression, "I may have stabbed it with a basilisk fang after pulling said fang out of my arm from when I stuck the sword of Gryffindor through the basilisk's mouth." He said it in a rush, hoping that if he said it faster it would soften the blow like one would with a plaster. Harry didn't have a clue what magic was in the diary, but he knew it wasn't ordinary magic and it was powerful too so he watched the Dark Lord carefully.

The man stilled completely, he didn't even breathe and his entire posture screamed utter disbelief as he stared at Harry, bright red eyes unblinking. Harry had to stop himself fidgeting as he felt Voldemort's magic stir after five minutes of thick silence, the Dark Lord still hadn't even twitched and Harry could see him mortality rate rapidly decline before his eyes, so he decided to what any self-respecting Slytherin would do (despite his housing in Gryffindor); he threw Lucius Malfoy under the bus.

"I really didn't have a choice, I swear. Malfoy had slipped the diary in to a first year's cauldron and it possessed her, I had the diary in my possession at one point and I was able to resist the compulsions so I locked away as I was unsure as to what exactly it was and what it could do. But it was stolen and when Lucius came and removed Dumbledore as headmaster he left me with no choice but to solve the mystery myself. I couldn't return to the Dursleys, you have to understand that by this point I had bars on my windows and Vernon had attacked me so bad that I was still healing by the time Halloween hit, and they were still pissed at me because my friends broke me out of my prison.

"I would have sold my own soul to stop me going back any earlier than necessary. So when I found out where the chamber was and what was controlling your memory form I didn't even think. You had my wand and you had set the basilisk on me, and when the fang went in to my arm and my vision started blurring the only thing I could think about was not going down alone so I stabbed the diary; it seemed entirely logical at the time." Harry explained hurriedly, "I even tried to get Lucius taken down for bringing the diary to the school but I didn't get a chance, though that was how I tricked him in to releasing Dobby because I gave the diary back to him and hid a sock in it and he gave it to the elf who opened it and found the sock, but that's completely beside the point, which is I did try everything else first." Voldemort still hadn't blinked, and his magic was still rising, it was thick within the air and Harry was starting to taste a cool mint flavour when he took a breath through his mouth.

With the situation as it was there were a lot of things Harry was expecting, he expecting yelling, cursing – both the verbal and the magical kind – and sworn revenge, but he certainly wasn't expecting a whispered:

"You got bitten by a basilisk and lived?"

Harry blinked at him several times, his lips parting in shock and then he shook his head.

"Um yes. On my arm." Harry pulled up his sleeve to reveal the scar that still remained, he had never really given it much thought, it was just something that happened and something he had survived; it was done.

"You realise, of course, that there is no other substance within the known world that is potent as mature basilisk venom, and the venom within that particular basilisk was at least a thousand years old." Voldemort said and Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I did read something like that," Harry acknowledged. "Fawkes cried on the wound and I was fine, I survived and it was done."

"You shouldn't have." Voldemort said matter of fact. There was no maliciousness or anger in his tone, just simple fact that had Harry looking at him sharply.

"What do you mean? Phoenix tears can heal practically anything, and these were freshly applied to the wound."

"You do not understand." Voldemort said, "While Phoenix tears are remarkably potent, able to perform often miraculous healing processes, the sheer age of the basilisk venom should have killed you. Like wine and scotch, venom strengthens over time, and something that has been strengthening for a thousand years should have killed you within seconds, there should have been no time for the tears to counteract the poison." Harry looked at him in surprised.

"But I am alive." He pointed out unnecessarily.

"You failed to understand the concept of dying." Voldemort told him surely and Harry snorted.

"Yeah, I'm started to realise how much."

"As for the rest of your tale." Voldemort's lips thinned, "I shall be dealing with Lucius." He was furious at the Malfoy Lord for disobeying his direct orders and Lucius would be paying for it, however the teen's tale did clear a few things up for him. The clearness of his mind must have been the part of his soul reattaching itself to the main fragment. It was the hidden part of a horcrux that Voldemort had found when he had researched them, yes a horcrux could be destroyed, but the soul piece couldn't pass on because only souls can go to the afterlife and pieces didn't count so they sought out kin and sealed back together; it was a circle of immortality.

He realised now, if a bit belatedly, that he had gone too far in his creation of horcruxes, and now, with his mind sharper and clearer than it had been in a long time, he was able to detail his mistakes and plan on how he was going to rectify and prevent them. He looked at the teen in front of him, one that seemed to surround most of his actions in one way or another and had a brilliant idea. There was no doubting the teen had potential and that he was powerful, though he was untrained he could be a lethal threat if he were to work against the dark. Not only did he seem to be resistant to death, he had smart friends who were able to get things done efficiently and silently and they all seemed to have the ability to see things from different perspectives.

"What is keeping you tied to the light?" Voldemort questioned abruptly.

"Me alone? My lack of knowledge of the dark." Harry told him, "My friends are waiting for the response to this meeting, should it answer their questions and meet their requirements then they could switch and my family will follow me anywhere I go, of that I have no doubt."

"What are your friends looking for?"

"Hermione seeks knowledge, and she has a vicious thirst to prove that, despite her bloodline, she is equally as good as the purebloods. And she is, without bias or tinted vision, there are very few that, at our age, that can do what Hermione can with a wand." Harry told him firmly.

"You truly believe that she is gifted?" there was no sneer in his voice, just honest curiosity, which is why Harry pulled up his other sleeve to reveal a simple silver band around his wrist. He held it out for the Dark Lord to see and grinned when the man's eyebrows shot up and he leaned in closer to properly look at the band. It was covered in tiny Runes that formed a unique chain of magic with the aid of some well linked charms, not only did it track his every movement, it had a powerful shield that would block multiple low level spells and around five high powered ones before failing and reducing to a rudimentary layer of protection made to take the main strength out of spells not block them.

It also held a health monitor, one that would relay if his heath dropped to unconscious or critical, and identification Rune that would analyse the magical signature of anyone who cast a spell on Harry while he was wearing the bracelet, an eruption Rune, which, if activated manually, would release a shockwave of magic from the band as a distraction to aid him getting away, a blood Rune that made it impossible for anyone but Harry to take the bracelet off, an unbreakable Rune, shatter resistant charms, water and fireproof charms and multiple charms that would alert him by heating up if he was being poisoned, drugged or someone tried to enter his mind.

"Hermione gave this to me yesterday, the spells link back to an enchanted sheet of parchment that we all have access too. She and Ron will know if anything were to happen to me, what happened, where it happened and who was responsible within seconds of it happening. We each have one to match and we can each monitor the other when the time calls for it. She created them within a month." Harry explained seriously, "She is the smartest witch of our generation. It was her who was able to find the ritual you needed me for and then found one better at fourteen, it was her that figured out our teacher was a werewolf at thirteen, it was her who worked out the beast within the chamber was a basilisk and used a mirror to protect herself and others at twelve, it was her who managed to beat Snape's logic riddle in under five minutes with just eight months of magical training behind her in our first year. Hermione Granger can do anything she sets her mind to, and I am not ashamed to admit I would fear going up against her." Voldemort looked a mix between disbelief, incredulous, impressed and surprised; it was quite amusing.

"This creation is truly inspiring," He allowed, "Had I not been able to feel your complete and sincere honestly, I would not believe the words that you speak. Though your fear of her seems unjustified with your power."

"Do not get me wrong, in terms of power I could flatten both my friends without blinking and we all know that, but that does not mean I would go against Hermione. Her spell repertoire outreaches even the most studious of seventh year Ravenclaws, and her ability to manipulate latent magics is unquestionable, mix that in with a fierce determination, a burning passion that the gods couldn't match and a hidden vindictiveness that Snape would be proud to achieve then I believe I have every right to fear going against her." Harry explained.

"What of your other friend?"

"Ron seeks recognition for the power that he holds, and a place where he can shine for  _his_  abilities, not those of his brothers or the reputation of his family." Harry said, "Ron, despite being fourteen, is a master at strategy, planning and tactics. It was he that looked at the bigger picture way back in yule and realised if anything was going to be happening to me then it was going to be during the third task as a way to remove me from Dumbledore's ever-watchful eye. You give him something that needs to be done and he will return with several different strategies, each that plays against the enemies weaknesses as well as backup tactics and fall back routes. He can manipulate almost any situation to show the next sensible play; he is a master at chess. Currently unbeaten by those within three of the four houses, all years."

"What of his power?"

"Ron is powerful, once he puts his mind to something practically it takes him but a few attempts to perfect it, though it's the motivation that often lacks. He has grown so used to never being able to live up to his brothers, the expectations on him have become too much so he doesn't actively bother. Things get to him easily and because of the relentless shadows he seems to walk in he can be a touch irrational, and it was only because I am equally, if not more, stubborn and I forced him to listen to realise when my name out of the cup. But during all of my escapades, bar one, Ron has been with me." Harry said, "He sacrificed himself on the giant chessboard in our first year, he stood up and openly walked in to an acromantula nest, despite having a pathological fear of spiders, in second year and then went on to follow me in to an unknown hole in the floor when I entered the chamber, and planned out all possible workings currently going on this year. Ron is many things, but weak of will or power is not one of them."

"I see." Voldemort murmured. "What do you wish for the outcome of this upcoming war?"

"I want magic to be magic, and not just for the people. Magical creatures and races have been shunned and abused for too long, corrupt politicians and those who only have themselves and their own greed in mind are in power, and children are suffering from the decision of those who have been in power for too long. I want to be able to be proud of the world that I live in, to say that those who hold magic are able to earn the respect of people no matter the affiliation or the race. I understand that it is not safe for the continuing muggle influence, and I get the risks involved with those of muggle birth returning to the muggle world year in and out, but that does not mean an entire segregation of magicals deserve to be locked out of a world that they belong in." Harry said passionately,

"You know what I wish to do with the world, and you know of what happened during the last war. You have asked your questions and I have asked mine. War is going to come and there is nothing to be done to stop it, our views are not dissimilar." Voldemort stated calmly. "For that I offer you a proposition." Harry sat up straighter and looked at the Dark Lord.

"Ok, I'm listening."

"The three of you will become apprentices to those within the dark, you will be taught all magics but it will be tailored to your strengths while masking your weaknesses. It will be a strict and difficult regime, but it holds the benefits of each of you. Miss Granger will be able to prove that her lesser birth has not affected her and knowledge will be at her disposal. Mr Weasley will be able to develop his own abilities and earn recognition for his talents and abilities without the looming shadow of his siblings and the expectations of his parents. And you will, Mr Potter, will be able to show the world you are more than a face with a title you feel as if you did not earn, you will be able to, once you have trained, have an active part in parts of the war you decide, you will pick your own actions and will not be denied access to information that involves you whatsoever. You will not be lied to and your questions will be answered unless there is a very good reason behind it, and the reason will definitely be more than 'you are too young to know'." Voldemort laid down his intentions clearly, without hidden agenda, well  _much_  hidden agenda anyway.

He knew, by the way Harry had mentioned Dumbledore, that if he were to lie to the teen or omit anything of significance then it would take a miracle to have the teen even think about coming to his side. The Dark Lord preferred not to lie. That wasn't to say that he couldn't or that he didn't, on the contrary, he was a master manipulator and lies came almost second nature to him, but if he could, he would tell the truth; if simply because, more often than not, the truth was more powerful and more painful than lies ever could be. Harry's mind was whirling, he had been thrown of balance yet again and he didn't know whether to be worried or excited. They had planned for the Dark Lord to be less rational than this cool, calm and calculating man sat before Harry, and an offer such as the one presented hadn't even crossed their minds. It would be a chance of a lifetime, and, despite many believing him to be insane for even thinking it, he believed the Dark Lord had been honest with him. He had learned, through no choice of his own, to read people by the subtlest of gestures and he had not picked up on any deceit.

One question did come to mind, however, and it would be one that could affect the entire decision.

"Who would we apprentice with, and how would it work?" He asked and Voldemort smirked, as if he was expecting the question.

"It will be on a one to one basis. The tutor will be responsible for their charges welfare, their teachings and their security, something that will be taken very seriously. It means that, on the unlikely chance your presence is discovered, your tutor will protect you if needed, or make sure word does not get out. The three of you shall be hidden, the knowledge of your side change will be secrecy bound to myself and the tutors until you have each reached your majority and have come in to your full magical powers. And the ability to cover all of your tracks, even those that seem inconsequential shall be taught to each of you." Voldemort explained and Harry nodded, liking the sound of it more and more, "As for your tutors, I have already selected the best fit for each of you."

"That was surprisingly quick." Harry noted.

"You give very apt descriptions." Voldemort returned.

"Who are they going to be?"

"Miss Granger, I believe with benefit under the tutelage of Antonin Dolohov. He has a quick mind, more knowledge on obscure and variants of magic than any other except myself and he is very thorough when it comes to theory." Voldemort began and Harry blinked, not expecting that but understanding why. It made sense, Hermione ate theory for breakfast and obscure magic for lunch, an older version of that would be great for her.

"Ron?"

"Mr Weasley, I know, will benefit under the teachings and knowledge of Rabastan Lestrange. Rabastan was the Death Eater behind most of the major strikes against the light, his strategy is like no other and, he has the added benefit of being the younger brother with expectations and impossible shadows to live up to and outgrow."

"That is shockingly perfect, and he could help Ron more on an emotional level because damn has he got a temper on him." Harry muttered, "Not that I can say much, but at least it takes me a while to get going."

"Indeed,"

Harry glowered at the amused tone before clearing his expression.

"What about me?" He asked somewhat nervously, his trepidation only grew stronger when the Dark Lord have him a smile full of perfectly white teeth.

"You, Mr Potter, will be apprenticing with me." He stated and Harry would admit he gaped just a little bit.

"Excuse me?" He demanded, well, he tried to demand but it came out more as a shocked squeak, though if anyone asked it was deep and manly. Voldemort's shark like smile stretched dangerously, his crimson eyes sparkling with a darkly amused excitement that Harry torn between fearing for his life and laughing out in excited glee.

"It is my belief that you have the power, determination and sheer force of will to shine under my teachings, and I have not seen this much potential in many years, if ever before. I will teach you everything I know, and everything you want to know, I will show you magic you believed to by myths and introduce you to cultures and secrets that have long been forgotten. I will teach you confidence as well as self-assuredness, I will teach you how to lie and cheat your way out of certain death and I will teach you how to lead without your subjects understanding they are being led. I will teach you to manipulate both people and magic to your will, and I will teach you to see the very seams of the spells we use today so you can create your own. You will learn secrecy and power like you have never seen before and by the time I have finished with you there will be very few people that will scratch the surface of what will have become." The Dark Lord's proclamation was filled with a passion that Harry was shocked to hear, and even more thrilled to experience. It was an opportunity of a life-time.

"I will need to speak with my friends." Harry told him evenly, his excitement only in his eyes.

"Naturally."

"And everything we do from now on, in front of your Death Eaters and the rest of the world will have to be carefully scripted." Harry pointed out.

"Easily done." Voldemort allowed, "And when the times comes, you can take your pick of the world and it won't be disputed." That made Harry's attention zone in.

"What about the people within said world?" Harry questioned, his mind centred on a certain potions master. "Those who are out of reach."

"No one is out of reach, you simply find a way to get them." He waved Harry off like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "You will learn that in time."

"How long do with have?" Harry questioned and Voldemort tilted his head to the left slightly.

"You have until the end of term to make your decision, but remember once you are in you cannot back out." Voldemort warned.

"I understand."

"Very well," Voldemort rose to his feet and led Harry from the room. "I have to call my Death Eaters and it is expected that I try to kill you."

"That's easy enough, through some curses around and as long as still have my wand then we're good to go."

"How do you suppose that?"

"Didn't you know? We have brother wands." Harry told him simply, "They are incapable of inflicting mortal harm to the other wielder."

"I see," Voldemort looked as if he wanted to know more but realised that it wasn't the time.

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?" Harry asked rhetorically and Voldemort nodded.

"Yes, but Dumbledore will recognise the signs of the cruciatus curse and your healer will inform him otherwise." Voldemort pointed out. "I hope you are exceptionally good at acting."

"Oh you have no idea." Harry said with a smirk, "Oh, and when you Obliviate Wormtail, I'm taking him with me."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," There was absolutely no doubt in Harry's tone, and Voldemort had the feeling that even if he did not give his permission Wormtail would be leaving with the teen.

"He is not of much use." Voldemort relented. "Consider it a gift then, of goodwill."

"Thanks," Harry said pleased. He skipped down the hill back to the graveyard and over to the rat, for good measure he kicked him before looking at the Dark Lord. Voldemort Obliviated Wormtail and cast a disillusion charm over him so he wasn't seen by other people.

"Remember, when you make your escape you need to get back to the cup. Wormtail will remember me, remember his actions as a Death Eater but not the resurrection so you can do with that as you will."

"I can do but two things. Either I declare your return, have my name and influence slashed through the ministry as they try to discredit me, or I merely claim that the night was to traumatising, and I managed to catch Wormtail." Harry said, "And if I crush my influence now, it may be harder to get back later when it counts."

"Traumatising sounds more promising," Voldemort decided, "Climb on to the gravestone, and prepare yourself." Harry jumped up and robes shot out to tie him to the stone, they weren't tight thankfully and Harry closed his eyes before pulling on an expression of fear, pain and confusion. He felt the Dark Lord's magic before the sky was filled with black streaks, the Death Eaters landed and knelt before their Lord changing the atmosphere completely.

Harry watched as the Dark Lord gave them a speech, one in third person much to his amusement before turning the focus on to him. He made a grand show of being able to touch him, and Harry swore the man flashed a smirk when Harry rolled his eyes, he screamed like he was supposed to before the Dark Lord moved back. He was released from the ropes and told to pick up his wand, Harry made it look like he was scrambling for his wand but he just let it drop from the holster he owned before jumping, or trying to as his leg gave a nasty twinge.

"It is time to show the world who is more powerful." Voldemort declared and Harry had to snort, he couldn't help himself. "Bow Harry, bow to death," obviously he refused to move, he gave the man a look of utter contempt as the Death Eaters laughed. "I said bow." Harry felt his spine arch forcing him to bow, he took a moment to admire the directional magic before sending a truly poisonous glare to the Dark Lord.

They started flinging spells at each other, and Harry kept all of his spell work that of a fourth year with some fifth year works that would co-inside with the tournament. He missed his footing and Voldemort caught him with a cruciatus curse, Harry went down hard clenching his teeth as not to scream, it felt like the knife wound Vernon had given him but all over his body. But he wouldn't scream, he could not give anyone the satisfaction of hearing him scream ever again. The spell was released and he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.

"A small break perhaps?" Voldemort mocked, his eyes lit up, "We can pause just for now. That hurt, didn't it?" Harry briefly entertained the idea for snapping out a sarcastic comment, the Dark Lord had a twisted sense of fucking humour, but he remained silently glaring at him as the Death Eaters laughed. "You really don't want me to do that again, do you, Harry?" He crooned and Harry felt his eyes narrow, scripted or not, he wasn't going to play this game.

"I asked you whether you wanted me to do it again. Answer me!" He demanded and hissed when Harry didn't. "Imperio!"

Harry was awash with the complete serenity that was the Imperius Curse before his head cleared, he could hear the Dark Lord's voice in the back of his mind telling him to answer and Harry's lips curled up in to an arrogant smirk.

"Go screw yourself." His impertinent words silenced the Death Eaters and shocked Voldemort enough for the man to widen his eyes slightly.

"I see," his voice had dropped down to an icy hiss, "Perhaps some more pain." Harry dropped and rolled as soon as the first syllable left the man's lips, he ducked behind a gravestone to gather his barings. His leg was starting to burn again and exhaustion from the maze was setting in, he ignored the Dark Lord taunting him and centred himself; he had to have faith.

He launched himself out from behind the gravestone flinging an expelliarmus as he went, the Dark Lord was ready and the sickly green killing curse headed to him; the spells collided. Everyone's focus was on the joint spells, they created a connection that was casting light throughout the graveyard and Harry knew it was now he had to escape. His eyes darted around to the triwizard cup and spotted it inches away from Wormtail's stunned, bound and disillusioned form and almost grinned, Harry yanked up his wand suddenly, breaking the connection and sprinted to the cup. He jumped, dived and rolled out of the curses being aimed at him and slid to the ground next to Wormtail.

"Accio!" He yelled, summoning the cup to him and whirling away with a sickening hook behind the navel; time for the real challenge.

* * *

Harry landed and cancelled the disillusion of the rat just as people within the crowd realised he had returned. The noise level rose and Harry managed to push himself up by the time Ron and Hermione reached him, their eyes were wide and Harry nodded to confirm the question in their eyes.

"The rat?" Ron asked in disgust, his voice low.

"A gift," Harry replied and grinned slightly at their shocked expression. "A lot happened."

"Apparently," Hermione said amazed, "RoR?"

"Not tonight, Poppy won't let me out of her sight until tomorrow." Harry said, looking over her shoulder to see Dumbledore, Remus, a dog, Moody and Fudge making their way over.

"Ok."

"Guard Wormtail, do not let him out of your sight unless Madam Bones is there. And be prepared to cast a patronus." Harry warned and they nodded.

"Harry, my boy, what happened?" Dumbledore asked in a semblance of concern, as they group reached them.

"The cup was a portkey, sir." Harry answered, "It was an ambush."

"Merlin's beard!" Fudge exclaimed, "That's Peter Pettigrew. He's supposed to be dead."

"Yeah, he was there." Harry confirmed, before glaring at the man, "And of course he isn't dead, if you would have listened to me last year you wouldn't be so surprised."

"It seemed such an unlikely tail." Fudge blustered, "Pretty unbelievable,"

"Like trying to imagine how you stayed in office all these years." Harry snapped, making the man go red and splutter. Ron, Remus and the dog snorted and tried to hide their laughter as Dumbledore and Hermione gave him disapproving looks.

"Let's get you to the Hospital wing," Remus suggested, "Then you can tell us what happened."

"Good plan," Harry agreed, "I want Madam Bones here."

"I don't think that will be necessary." Fudge tried and Harry gave him a look of disdain.

"We all know you don't think, minister. It's why we are in this situation in the first place." Harry told him shortly, " _I_ think that, as she is the head of the DMLE, she  _needs_  to be here."

"I will have a message dispatched to her as soon as we have heard your story," Dumbledore tried to reassure but Harry wasn't having it. His eyes scoured the crowed before he spotted the red head stood with some of the Hufflepuffs, wearing a pretty combination of red, black, yellow and gold.

"Hey, Bones?" He called, waving his hand to get her attention. She came over with her best friend, Hannah Abbott, and looked at him in question.

"Yes, Potter?"

"Sorry to be a pain, but you haven't got a way to contact your Aunt instantly, have you?" He asked with a wry expression, "Only, I seem to have brought back someone who was supposed to be dead and has a connection to my parents murder." The dog was growling at the unconscious rat and Remus stilled the beast with a touch to the head. Susan blinked a few times before looking at Wormtail in disbelief and nodded.

"I'll get her within half an hour." She assured him, "Hospital wing?"

"Thank you so much," Harry said pleased, "And yeah." She nodded and left, Harry grinned at Remus, who was looking inherently pleased, and went to walk; only his leg was not in agreement with his movement and he went down like a puppet without strings.

"Come here, cub." Remus admonished, "Honestly, stubborn as your mother." The werewolf picked Harry up and carried him up to the hospital, completely ignoring the teen's protests.

"Come on, Moony!" Harry complained, "I'm fine."

"Do I look as if I am even remotely interested in listening to your lies about your current state of health?" Remus questioned lightly and Harry pouted, he crossed his arms with a huff and shut up; damn stubborn wolf. Remus didn't let him down until he was inside the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey had directed him to a bed with a fond roll of her eyes, as if to say I already knew you would be coming. Harry offered her a grin and a shrug as she got to work, she tutted at the state of his leg as shoved multiple potions down his throat, he gagged at the flavour but didn't complain as his leg almost immediately stopped hurting.

"Snakes, dragons and now spiders!" She exclaimed, "When will you learn to stay away from highly venomous, highly dangerous animals?"

"Well, in my defence, I haven't ever been bitten by a dragon, that was Ron, and I actually first met the acromantula in second year when Hagrid told us to go meet his massive pet, Aragog." Harry pointed out brightly, and she gave him a dangerous look.

"I take that as a no." She grumbled and he chuckled. Harry settled when Dumbledore and the minister entered the wing.

"Ah, Harry," The Headmaster called, "I am sorry to have to do this now, but can you tell us what happened?"

"Well, I don't really know, exactly." Harry said slowly, fiddling with his torn shirt. "The cup was a portkey to a graveyard, I think. I didn't get to see much before I was attacked. I don't know who was there and why it happened, they were all in cloaks with their faces covered, but I managed to jump Pettigrew when I recognised him, and summon the cup." Harry noted that during his talking Snape and McGonagall had entered, and Harry suddenly remembered exactly what Snape was and cursed. He looked over and saw the potion's master's left arm twitch, his eyes were narrowed at Harry's tale, Harry knew it wouldn't be too long until he got word from the other Death Eaters that everything wasn't as Harry was saying. He would have to run his options by Ron, see if he could plan something to make sure they were covered.

"I see, it must have been some people who have carried a grudge." Fudge mused, seemingly pleased that there wasn't much to be done. Dumbledore didn't look to happy but he didn't say anything thankfully, and Remus was giving him a look that screamed  _you will be telling me the truth at the soonest possible time._  Harry was just about to lie back and get some rest when the doors opened again and a strict looking woman entered with two red robes men following her, she had deep red hair, which held the odd grey streak in some places and was pulled up in a severe bun.

"Mr Potter," She greeted, her voice perfectly even, "My niece has informed me that you wished to see me immediately."

"Ah, you must be the famous Madam Bones." Harry replied, a smile coming to his face as she raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, I did, and I apologise for going through your niece, but this really couldn't wait."

"Very well, you have gotten my attention." She said and Harry looked over at his friends. Hermione levitated Pettigrew over and put the rat at the Director's feet, her eyes widened in shock before looking back at Harry with a critical eye.

"This looks remarkably like Peter Pettigrew." She stated and Harry smiled grimly.

"That is Peter Pettigrew." Harry corrected, "As I told Minister Fudge last year, Sirius Black is innocent of the crimes he was, unfairly mind you, imprisoned for, and now I have proof."

"I did not hear of such accusations." She told him, her narrow eyed gaze moving to the uncomfortable looking minister.

"No, Fudge didn't believe me," Harry said testily, "Which is why I wanted to have you here as soon as possible, Sirius Black is innocent, and the Kiss on Sight order can be rescinded, right?"

"Black was already convicted once, this is nonsense." Fudge protested and both Amelia and Harry glared at him.

"Any new developments to a case need to be investigated, you know this Cornelius." Madam Bones barked, "Something you should remember in future."

"And there is the fact that Sirius didn't get a trial." Harry put in, and was rewarded with an intense stare from Madam Bones.

"Excuse me?"

"Didn't you know?" Harry asked confused, "Sirius was thrown in Azkaban by Crouch and Bagnold without a trial, and I know that because he told me last year and Hermione looked for the court transcripts for me."

"I will open an investigation in to this immediately, and I give you my oath, as Madam Director, that the kiss on sight order will be rescinded. Pettigrew will go to trial, and I will need Sirius Black to hand himself in to submit to Veritaserum questioning also." She explained, "And I also give my oath that should he come to me that he will be protected until we determine, fully, whether he is guilty or innocent."

"Thank you, Madam Bones." Harry said gratefully, "I'll pass the message on to Sirius."

"Oho!" Fudge burst out, "Conspiring with a convicted felon is a crime." This time everyone looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

"One would need to have a trial for him to be convicted." Harry snapped, "Madam Pomfrey, I have a really bad headache and-," he didn't need to say anymore, the strict matron came over brandishing her wand threatening and ushered everyone out of the wing except Remus and the dog, that Harry used his disarming puppy dog eyes to get permission for him to stay. When the room was finally empty, Harry dropped back with a relieved sigh, only to groan when Remus cleared his throat.

"You have some explaining to do," The werewolf informed him and Harry shot him a false bright smile.

"I don't know what you mean." Harry said and Remus just continued to give him the:  _speak now_  look and the teen huffed. "Fine, what do you want to know?"

"How did you get hold of Wormtail? The truth if you will, not the tale you spun for the rest of the crowd." Remus questioned and Harry winced. This could go two ways.

"You sure you want that?" Harry asked warily, Remus nodded and Padfoot barked too.

"We're sure."

"He was a gift of goodwill." Harry told them and they both seemed to still, Remus gave him an utterly blank expression and Padfoot tilted his head to the side in the universal sign of confusion.

"He was a… gift of goodwill?" Remus repeated, his voice low, confused and incredulous.

"Yeah," Harry shifted under his stare and almost breathed in relief when Remus finally blinked.

"What  _exactly_  happened?" Remus questioned, "You've been asking questions, and now we suddenly have a gift of goodwill. Who gave this gift?"

"You know exactly who gave the gift." Harry pointed out and Remus closed his eyes, taking a slow breath.

"I had a feeling you were going to say that." He muttered despairingly.

"As for what happened? Well, I finally got my answers, it was quite different from what I was expecting, and a lot more than expected." Harry continued.

"Why did you come back so injured?" Remus demanded and Harry smirked slightly.

"The minions will not know of anything that really happened tonight," Harry told him and Remus raised an eyebrow.

"What did happen? And how do you factor Severus in to this?"

"I don't know exactly what to do about Snape." Harry said with a sigh, "I really don't want to lie to him and…" Harry looked down at his hands with another sigh, why did his damn potions master have to be so interesting, with his silky voice, dark eyes and unquestionable intelligence. Harry mentally cursed, he was so doomed. Snape would never see him as himself and he would be forever left to pine; ugh, it was disgustingly depressing.

"Ah, I see." Remus murmured, and Harry had a feeling that he really  _did_  see.

"As for what happened, I had our questions answered and I've been given an offer that is beyond anything I would have ever thought of." Harry said shaking his head, he was still in slight disbelief of what had happened and he couldn't wait to be able to work it out with his friends.

"You've been given an offer, from  _Him?_ " Remus questioned and Harry nodded. "What is it?"

"Ron, Hermione and I have been offered apprenticeships with three people from the dark." Harry answered and laughed when Remus choked on his intake of breath. Padfoot whined and transformed, ducking down so he was out of sight of Poppy's office.

"You've been what?" Sirius whisper yelled and Harry shrugged.

"It's been a really weird night." Harry commented and Sirius looked at him as if he was insane.

"You are telling me that Voldemort himself, the insane megalomaniac, has offered Ron Weasley, from the biggest family of blood traitors known in our world, Hermione Granger, a muggleborn witch, and you, the person responsible for damning him to thirteen years as a sprit, apprenticeships." Sirius confirmed and Harry nodded.

"Yup, pretty much sums it up."

"And he gave you Wormtail as a sign of goodwill?"

"Yup,"

"Oh," Sirius blinked a few times and then looked at Moony, who shrugged helplessly.

"Yeah, I know. I didn't think he would be as he was, but he is sane and he explained everything." Harry said, "With a surprising amount of honestly."

"Start talking, pup." Sirius ordered, and so Harry told them everything. By the time he had finished he was exhausted, they were stunned and everyone needed to do a lot of thinking.

"We will talk to you tomorrow, cub." Remus assured him, "Just know that we are with you, and on our oath are your secrets safe with us."

"Thanks, Moony, Sirius." Harry said thankfully, he finally led down and drifted off in to welcome sleep.

* * *

"Holy mother of Merlin's b-,"

"Ronald!"

"Sorry, but you can't exactly blame me. Have you heard what we have been offered?"

"Of course I have, and I am extremely excited about the possibilities, but we still need to talk about this."

"I doubt it, we have our answers and have the opportunities of a lifetime."

"But there are things that need to be taken in to consideration."

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know. The fact that this is a lifetime agreement might have something to do with it."

"We knew that when we contemplated the dark anyway, but this is an even better option than what we thought we could gain."

"It is a very generous offer, but that doesn't mean we have to be rash. We're Gryffindors, not stupid."

Back and forth their debating went while Harry sat back and watched them with amusement, they were sat in the Room of Requirement and Ron and Hermione had just came back from the Pensieve, where Harry had shown them his memory of the night before. To say they were stunned would be a gross understatement, and Harry got to witness them trying to wrap their heads around the entire situation. They didn't plan for this, so they had no certain way of knowing what could happen if they were to proceed. Before they could continue arguing with each other, Harry interrupted them.

"Guys, I know this is a lot to take in, Merlin knows I barely kept it together last night, but we have more immediate problems that _have_  to be planned out."

"Sorry," they muttered, chastised before straightening up. Ron summoned his books, parchment and stationary and set his things up, then he turned to Harry ready to go.

"We didn't factor in Snape." Harry stated and they seemed to blink.

"Oh, he used to be, or still is, a Death Eater." Hermione gasped and Harry nodded.

"And let me guess." Ron said, rolling his eyes as he began writing things down, "You don't want to lie, trick, annoy or anger Snape in any way, shape, or form."

"How else am I going to change his opinion of me?" Harry exclaimed indignantly, "If I could just get him to see me, I am sure I could make him see things my way. Besides, you heard the Dark Lord, he said that no one is out of reach and you just had to find a way to get them. I'm finding a way."

"You really need to get over your obsession mate." Ron commented and Harry glared at him.

"It is not an obsession." He denied vehemently.

"Who are you currently thinking about?" Ron asked.

"Snape," Harry answered.

"What was the first thing that you thought about when the Dark Lord said that the world could be yours?"

"Snape." Harry answered again, this time a bit more quietly.

"And what was on the forefront of your mind this morning?" Ron questioned and Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Snape,"

"Hermione, what's the definition of obsession?"

"An idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person's mind." She recited immediately and Harry glared at the pair of them, his cheeks flushing with colour.

"Face it, mate, you're obsessed." Ron informed him and Harry huffed, crossing his arms.

"He's interesting."

"Uhuh,"

"Anyway, is there anything we can do to keep this from Dumbledore and not have Snape hate me even more?" Harry turned their conversation back on track and Ron frowned at his parchment.

"I think, given Snape's nature, and his seemingly automatic hatred of you, then it would be best for you to approach him in a peaceful gesture and be honest with him. The problem is searching for the peace needed, and distracting him from the fact that you look identical to your father." Ron mused, "You'll need to make sure that he stays silent about everything, but you'll also have to play on his Slytherin mentalities and make it worth his while."

"Oh, so no pressure then." Harry muttered, "Ok, so Snape loves potions, I'll need something on that."

"I can't believe I didn't think of it before." Hermione burst out, making the two males look at her. "The basilisk, in the chamber of secrets, it's yours by conquests." Harry's eyes lit up, if that didn't catch Snape's interest then he didn't know what would.

"Its only been two years, it should be ok, shouldn't it?" Harry asked, "I'll have to go and check, its pointless relying on this for a plan before we have everything."

"You do that, we'll work on making you Harry instead of James." Ron said, "Then we can talk about The Offer."

"Got it," Harry grabbed his cloak and left the room, swiftly making his way down to the second floor and along to the girl's bathroom. He checked to make sure Myrtle was nowhere to be seen before slipping in and hissing at the sink, he asked for stairs and made his way down to the Chamber of Secrets. It hadn't changed since he had been down there two years ago, and he had to do some spell work, which was questionable in reliability and stability. He cast a bubble head charm over his face before entering the main chamber, not sure what he would find in regards to the basilisk, but he was surprised to see that it looked as if it had been killed only moments ago. Harry removed the charm to make sure it smelled fine and then he left, there was nothing for him to do at that point. It didn't take him long to be back with his friends and he offered them a pleased grin.

"We're good to go," He told them and Ron returned the expression.

"Brilliant, we have just over a week left so it gives you limited time to get to Snape. That and he will either be speaking to or have already spoken to other Death Eaters." Ron told him.

"So it has to be tonight or tomorrow then." Harry said grudgingly.

"Yes."

"Wonderful!" Harry sighed, "Ok, 'Mione, you've been quiet! What's on your mind?"

"I think I am still in shock from when the Dark Lord complimented me." She answered shaking her head and Harry grinned.

"You did do an amazing job," Harry complimented and she blushed slightly.

"Thanks, Harry." She looked down before looking back up, "I know we have until the end of term to decide, but I don't think I will need that long. I want to do this, Harry. I want to do this so badly, and I haven't got anything to tie me to the light, compared to you both anyway."

"I don't know what to do." Ron sighed, "This, what he's offering us, its… there is nothing else to compare. Its life changing, and it's for us only. But, at the same time, my entire family is on the light, and while more often than not I dislike them, I've only got one."

"Ron, you don't have to decide now, it's a huge decision and not one to take lightly. Once we agree, or disagree, we cannot turn back, and so we need to think very carefully about this." Harry told them seriously, "If we take this offer it will change us forever, we will learn about things that we can only dream about, but at the same time we will see and do things we probably don't fully agree with. I don't want any of us to go in to this and then realise that we can't do it or we don't actually want it, and I don't want any of us going simply because the others want it. We make this decision as a team."

"Okay," Hermione agreed.

"Thanks, Harry." Ron said and Harry nodded.

"Now, what was this about getting me to look less like my dad?"

* * *

When Rita Skeeter wasn't attacking him, she was quite a marvellous writer Harry thought, as he put down the paper from where he was reading a lovely story of the ministry's uselessness. The Headline was screaming about the capture and subsequent questioning of the presumed dead Peter Pettigrew, it went on to speak of the evidence to suggest that Sirius Black was innocent of his crimes and that should Mr Black turn himself in he would be submitted to Veritaserum questioning as the kiss on sight order had been rescinded. Harry was very happy with the article and the swiftness of Madam Bones, it meant that he would no longer have to worry about Sirius while everything else was happening.

He looked at Hermione, who had a devious smirk on her face, and tilted his head, she nodded towards the head table and Harry noted Snape's spot was empty. Ron nudged him and Harry sighed, this was going to go well. They had guessed that Snape had either spoke to the Death Eaters last night or was going to today, it left Harry with very limited time to make sure everything went in his favour; he might as well AK himself now.

"Come on," Ron hissed, "We have to go now." Harry followed them from the hall and let Hermione drag him down the corridor, she pushed him in to an archway and snatched off his glassed.

"Um, Hermione?" He questioned, confused squinting as everything went blurry.

"Stay still, Harry." She ordered, and Harry felt himself freeze when her hands were suddenly next to his eye. He felt her pull down his eyelid and put something  _in_  his eye, he hissed and blinked furiously before everything settled and he opened his eyes again. He could  _see!_  Well, out of one eye anyway and he looked at Hermione amazed, he immediately motioned to the other eye and allowed her to put whatever it was in his other eye. When his furious blinking had stopped, Harry took a moment to look around at this new, curiously clear world around him before giving Hermione a positively blinding smile.

"Whatever this is, its ingenious." Harry told her, "You are absolutely amazing, Hermione Granger." She blushed but smiled back.

"I took a reading of your eyes and turned it in to a prescription and went to get you contact lenses as soon as muggle shops opened this morning."

"So that's why you were late to breakfast." Ron said in understanding and Hermione nodded.

"I snuck out and caught the Knight bus, that thing is awful." Hermione told them and both Ron and Harry were looking at her in awe.

"You are fantastic." They stated.

"Now, we need to neaten you up. Your father was carefree and messy, so you'll be neat and thoughtful." Hermione continued, "So put these on," she pulled a pair of shined boots out from somewhere and handed them to him, along with a different robe and a jar of potion.

"Hermione?"

"Don't argue," She said, "Just put them on." Harry rolled his eyes but did as he was told, and she nodded. The then emptied the entire context of the bottle of potion on to his head and forcefully dragged a comb through the mop that was his hair, she huffed and continued on her pursuit before standing back. She grimaced but shrugged.

"Well, you're hair defies even magic, but at least it looks as if it was styled instead of like you've just woken up." She decided, and held up a mirror at Harry's questioning look. He raised his eyebrows at his image, just a few subtle changes made him look so much different and he could see his mother's face in his own instead of the carbon copy of James Potter he had been before.

"You have to admit," Ron began, "She's completely mental, but absolutely genius."

"I completely agree." Harry admitted as Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling.

"I also brought this." She pushed a book in to his hands. "This is your conversation opener, I've marked the page, which you need to read quickly before you go, it's a vision correction potion, the only problem is that I don't know if its plausible and neither do you." Harry looked over at Ron, who shrugged.

"Where did we find her?" Harry asked, "We must have drank some liquid luck or something."

"I know,"

"You two," She sighed, shaking her head. "Honestly."

"Ok, so I look different, I have an opener and I have a bargaining tool. What else?" Harry asked and they looked at him.

"The rest is up to you." Ron told him brightly and Harry looked at him in alarm.

"What!?"

"You'll be fine, you spoke to the Dark Lord, Snape should be easy after that." Ron said and Harry, if possible, looked more scared.

"I'd take the Dark Lord any day." He assured.

"Read and get going," Hermione commanded, "And come to the RoR when you are done."

"But-,"

"Go!"

"Ok, I can do this." Harry muttered, "I'll read this on my way down."

"Good," Hermione said and they split up, Harry walked towards the dungeons flipping open the book as he went. Harry immediately knew what Hermione meant, the description was simple enough, the potion was made to correct the damages behind the eyes to correct the sight, however, the ingredients were like nothing Harry had ever seen before, as were some of the equipment and the process was horrifyingly complex. The person who created this potion was a complete genius, it was even more complex than the Polyjuice, and that was ridiculous.

If this was possible then he would pay double whatever it was worth to have it, the thought of not having to rely on glasses was a brilliant one and he was now genuinely interested to see if there was anything Snape could do about this potion. If anyone could do it, it would be the youngest potions master in the world, right? Harry navigated his way through the confusing dungeons, getting lost twice before finding Snape's office and looking at the dark wood door with trepidation. He pulled up the famous Gryffindor courage and knocked on the door, shuddering when almost instantly a silky drawl commanded him to enter. Harry pushed open the door and stepped in to the lowly lit office, Snape was on the far side at his desk, quill in hand and a stack of parchment next to him. His eyes automatically drifted around the room and over the potions master's profile without even thinking about it.

"Potter?"

Harry's attention snapped to the professor in question and his bright green eyes locked on to obsidian ones, he saw Snape blink twice otherwise his face didn't change. It was only when Snape raised an eyebrow that Harry realised he was staring and his cheeks flushed red, he walked further in to the room and mentally cursed Ron for saying he was obsessed; he so was not.

"Um, hi, sir." Harry greeted somewhat awkwardly and then wanted to hit himself.

"What are you doing here, Potter? I would have thought you would have other things to do." Snape drawled, but it was the way he said it and the way he gave Harry a narrow eyed look that told the teen that he had already gone and spoken to other Death Eaters. He kept his expression completely neutral as he held up the book in his hands, Snape looked mildly surprised, which for him was astronomical, and beckoned him over.

"Prey tell me why this book was of interest to you?" Snape questioned and Harry turned to the vision correction draught.

"I was wondering, as magic seemed to be able to perform medical miracles, would I be able to correct my eyesight? Hermione gave me this book and pointed this potion out. It's an amazing potion, and whoever created it was a genius, there's like seven different things happening at once so Merlin knows how they did it, I mean it seems impossible but someone obviously made it and well…" He trailed off and shrugged, not the most eloquent of explanations but at least it was the truth. Snape was looking torn between amused and incredulous and Harry shifted.

"Did you happen to notice the author of the book?" Snape asked lightly and Harry shot him a confused expression.

"What has that got-,"

"With potions, the author of the book will, more than likely, be the potions master responsible for creating the potions within the texts." Snape told him and Harry got a look of understanding on his face before shutting the book and actually looking at the cover. His eyes glossed over the title and the simplistic design and settling at the foot of the book where, in oh so familiar script, was the name of the author; Severus Snape. Of course it happened to be Snape's book, who else could it be? Harry felt his stomach drop and he knew he was positively glowing red as mortification settled in, he was going to absolutely kill Hermione, he knew that she knew who wrote this book and he knew she did this on purpose. He should just throw himself off the astronomy tower right now and be done with it.

"Do not be so melodramatic, Potter." Snape commented amused, and Harry's looked at him sharply.

"Did I say that out loud?" He asked alarmed and Snape smirked.

"Yes. Though, I shouldn't worry too much, it is refreshing to know exactly what you think of my abilities."

"Is there any possible way you will forget or not mention this at all?" Harry wondered, somewhat pleadingly and Snape gave him an almost pitying look.

"No," He answered and Harry sighed.

"I didn't think so,"

"In relation to the potion, I am going to assume that whatever you have used today is a temporary solution?" Snape inquired and Harry nodded.

"Hermione got me contact lenses, they only just came." Harry replied and that wasn't technically a lie, they did just come today, but it was only because they were bought today.

"I see. Well, the potion should correct all damages to your eyes, though you would have to have a medical scan to check exactly what's wrong with them. You, however, would have no hope of producing the potion, even if you're… talents were to grow any time soon." Snape informed him and Harry scowled, while he did enjoy Snape's unfailingly truthful words, it really wasn't his fault he sucked at potions and he said at much.

"If you decided put effort in to your work instead on relying on Miss Granger to get you buy you might actually be somewhat competent at potion brewing, and should you decide to use those things you want fixed to read a book then your essays would be something worth reading." Snape stated in a way only he could.

"It's not my fault!" Harry exclaimed, "And I do read, I actually know loads on potions theory, I just can't write it or actually do it."

"Why exactly are you unable to write or brew?" Snape questioned, his tone sceptical and somewhat scathing, to which Harry scowled at him.

"Well if you would have actually paid attention to me, instead of  _assuming_ that I'm some rich prince who was a copy of their father, like Malfoy, then you would have noticed that I have a bit of a problem." Harry snapped, and then he held up his hands. They were shaking slightly, as they always were and Snape's eyes narrowed again, the man was up and in front of Harry before the teen could blink and he took one of Harry's hands with surprising gentleness. He turned it over and his fingers softly pressed certain parts of his hand and wrist, and Harry had to forcefully focus on anything but those fingers.

"You have nerve damage in both your hands, as well as damaged ligaments and tendons." Snape discovered and Harry blinked.

"Right, medical licence, makes sense." Harry remembered and Snape nodded.

"These are old injuries that have been left untreated," Snape noted and then he gave Harry a look, "How did you get them, Potter?"

"Do you really want to know?" Harry fired back. He knew what had damaged his hands, it had been when he was 9 and he had accidently burned Vernon's food because Petunia was screaming at him for not cleaning the garden correctly, so he had just been putting things away when the food had started to burn. Vernon had held both of his hand over the burner in retaliation, and when he didn't scream loud enough he had shut them in the oven door.

He had thought they had healed, his magic was always healing him and he had woken up with extremely sore hands but the skin was back to normal, if a bit pink. Ever since then his hands had always shook, it was why his essays were always atrociously written, and it was why he couldn't make a potion to save his life, he couldn't keep a steady hand. Gripping his wand was easy, and more often than not the wand movement was able to be removed when he knew the spell, and holding on to a broom was simple as he had both hands to use as grip.

"Yes, Potter, I am sure."

"I had my hands held over an open flame until there was no skin left and then had them slammed shut in the oven door." He answered simply.

"And why was this done to you?"

"I burned the food, though I didn't do it again so I guess the lesson was learned." Harry mused and Snape hissed at him, his grip tightening briefly before it went gentle again.

"What sort of people would allow this?" He demanded and Harry snorted.

"Don't happen to know my mother's sister, do you?" He questioned sarcastically, so sarcastically that he was stunned when Snape replied. "You live with  _Petunia Evans_." In a voice so full of disdain it made his tone with Lupin seem almost cheery. Harry gaped at him for a few seconds before stuttering out a stunned reply.

"Y-yes, well, it's Dursley now, but yeah."

"Petunia Evans is the most foul, loathsome woman I have ever had the misfortune to meet, and Dumbledore sent you to live with her?" Snape exclaimed, "The old fool has finally proved he's lost his damn mind."

"I did ask, when I first got to this school, if Dumbledore was mad." Harry remembered and Snape shot him an unimpressed look.

"You will have the healed else you lose the ability in your hands, I would guess that it is only your magic keeping them as they are now." Snape told him, and Harry nodded. "The potions you will need to take will mean both hands will be unable to be moved for an entire day, so you will need to speak with your friends for aid."

"Yes, sir."

"Now," he left Harry's hand drop, much to the teen's severe displeasure, "I do not believe you came here for a conversation on past injuries, so would like you tell me why you are here."

"The potion-," Harry tried but was cut off.

"Or perhaps you would like to tell me why you lied through your teeth about what happened the night you were portkeyed away from Dumbledore?" Snape suggested darkly and Harry winced.

"Ah,"

"Indeed, ah! You might also like to tell me why you felt the need to lie about the Dark Lord's revival, as he still seems hell bent on killing you." Snape continued.

"Um-,"

"Furthermore, you may wish to consider informing me why I should not inform Dumbledore of your current lapse in memory." Snape finished and Harry sighed.

"I'm going to need an oath of silence for that." Harry said and Snape raised an eyebrow.

"You have not offered me anything worth my while, Potter. Currently, I hold the cards." Snape pointed out and Harry wrinkled his nose before nodding and looking at the man.

"So you want something in return for staying silent?"

"Unless you wish Dumbledore to discover your story is anything less than truthful."

"Fine," Harry said, "Rare potions ingredients?"

"I am capable of gathering my own."

"Not these ones you're not, especially straight from the source." Harry countered and Snape raised a brow.

"Go on,"

"As you may have noticed, Hermione is a walking encyclopaedia of knowledge, and she informed me that, in this world, if you kill a beast then you are entitled to it by rite of conquest." Harry said smoothly.

"And what does this have to do with this conversation?"

"I don't know if you remember, Professor, but in my second year I killed a very old basilisk." Harry commented, and he had Snape's full attention. "I propose you can harvest the basilisk and take a ¼ of it."

"Half," Snape bargained.

"Quarter, and a personal view of Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets." Harry countered and Snape paused.

"I do not know how big this basilisk is." He pointed out and Harry grinned.

"Quarter, a personal view of the Chamber and a guarantee that the basilisk is actually quite big." Harry said, and Snape looked him over.

"Deal,"

"Wonderful," Harry said pleased, "When do you want to go?"

"No time like the present," Snape stated. "Lead the way." Harry blinked and looked at him as if he was insane.

"I wasn't lying when I said the snake was big." Harry said to him.

"I have everything I need." Snape assured and Harry shook his head.

"What in Merlin's name do you keep in those robes?" He murmured to himself, only he was overheard.

"Wouldn't you be interested to know?" Snape quipped and Harry went scarlet.

"I forgot about your scarily good sense of hearing." Harry grumbled. He led Snape from the Dungeons, thanking his stars that it was summer and mostly everyone was outside as he made his way to the second floor.

"Now, I know this is odd, but I'm not having you on." Harry warned, and Snape merely raised an eyebrow, saying nothing. Harry shrugged and pushed open the girl's bathroom, he wasn't lucky enough not to catch Myrtle and he sighed.

"Oooh, Harry, have you come to visit me?" She asked, her voice high pitched and girlish, and Harry swore he would never live this day down.

"Not today, sorry Myrtle." Harry answered and watched as her demeanour drooped.

"Of course you haven't, no one likes miserable, moping, moaning Myrtle." She wailed and then dived in to the toilet splashing water everywhere.

"That was interesting." Snape commented and Harry groaned.

"She's unique." Harry grumbled. He went over to the tap hissing at it to open and calling for the stairs. "I apologise for the questionable magic work, the first time I went down here it was with Lockhart and he caused the ceiling to cave it so when I came back to check I had to make the best of it." He trotted down the stairs with Snape following silently, they passed his makeshift archway without word and stopped in front of the inner door by the snake skin, which Snape obviously spotted.

"This is almost perfectly preserved." He murmured, he pulled something out of his cloak and folded the skin up to put it away. Harry turned to open the door and made sure to spin around so he could face Snape when he saw the basilisk, and he wasn't disappointed. The man walked in, taking a brief moment to look around the Chamber belonging to his founder, before his eyes fell on the corpse of the basilisk. Snape was pale anyway, but when he saw the 50ft snake he went positively white and made an odd sound in the back of his throat.

"Welcome to the Chamber of Secrets." Harry announced and when he didn't get a response he considered it a great victory to have stunned Snape in to utter silence. "Sir?"

"That, Potter, is not  _quite_  big." Was Snape's acerbic observation and Harry smiled sheepishly.

"Would you have believed me if I said it was a fifty foot monstrosity?" He asked.

"No, I wouldn't have." Snape allowed.

"Well, it's all yours, sir. I am completely useless for help." Harry told him honestly.

"Do as you will, Potter." Snape commanded, finally making his way towards the snake, "I will need an hour perhaps."

"I doubt it's necessary, but yell if you need me." Harry said and left him to do his work, he decided to explore the Chamber and see if there was anything hidden, though he thought it might be best if he didn't go down the basilisk just yet or while he was alone. He did, instead, climb up the massive statue of Slytherin to see how high it went, and it was only when he was sat on the shoulder did he hear Snape's voice again.

"You were not very injured when you returned to the Headmaster's office, Potter, so why the pool of blood?" Snape questioned and Harry looked down to where he was, the man had the loose fang in his hand and was stood next to the patch of dried blood.

"Ah, well, I wasn't injured because Fawkes cried on me after the basilisk bit me." Harry told him, and Snape looked up and him with a scowl.

"Get down here you foolish miscreant, before you finally manage to get yourself killed." He barked and Harry pouted.

"I have faith that you wouldn't let me fall and die, sir." Harry protested and Snape's scowl turned in to an outright glare, Harry's shoulders dropped and he sighed. "Fine," he slithered down the statue and landed lightly at the base, tripping slightly and grabbing the rock to keep him upright. "There," Snape glared some more before turning back the now dismembered reptile, everything was in pieces and Snape had sectioned everything to be distributed, Harry looked around impressed.

"So what parts do you want?" He questioned, and Snape looked at all of the parts with uncharacteristic eagerness, or his interpretation of the word anyway.

"The eyes, even though damaged, still hold experimental qualities." Snape answered slowly. "Also, the blood and the venom hold many unknown qualities." Harry saw that there were 12 jars of black substance, which he was going to presume was the venom, and around 20 larger jars of deep red liquid, which he hoped was the blood.

"4 venom and 12 blood." Harry suggested.

"Done,"

"Ok, so I want most of the fangs and the hide." Harry said, "But you can have the entire shed snake skin, half the meat and two heart strings?"

"Five heart strings,"

"Three,"

"Four,"

"Deal,"

"I believe we are in agreement, Potter." Snape decided, waving his wand to pack up his share of the basilisk and Harry called for Dobby to put his share carefully hidden away until he needed it.

"The oath," Harry said, "Will need to include everything you have been told about my meeting with the Dark Lord and anything I tell you about anything to do with the dark side."

"Very well, Potter." Snape held up his wand, "I Severus Tobias Snape to swear upon my magic to not communicate, in any way, anything I have heard about or from Harry James Potter regarding the dark side. So mote be it." The magic flashed and Harry nodded, it was pretty air tight, though he didn't doubt that Snape could find a way out should he need to.

"Basically, I got sick of not knowing the full story of what was actually happening within the war and so we came up with a plan to get those answers." Harry told him.

"You participated in the Dark Lord's resurrection… to get answers." Snape repeated, slight disbelief entering his tone.

"Yes, pretty much."

"Have you lost what little intelligence you hold?" He snarled, "You go to the person who wants you dead? By Merlin Potter!"

"Well it isn't like theirs a list of people I could ask, is there?" Harry demanded, "I would rather sling Malfoy of the astronomy tower, and this is the longest time we have spent in each other's company without you verbally attacking me and assuming I have purposely done something wrong. It's not like I could simply walk up to you and be like, oh hey sir, remember me, the bane of your existence, would you mind if I happen to ask you a few questions on your time as a sycophant to the insane megalomaniac that has tried to off me three times?"

"I can admit that I might have been too quick to judge you in the past, but did you not think, for one second, that it would be beneficial for your continuing health to come to me anyway?" Snape stated, his tone sharp, "You just said the Dark Lord was insane, in what universe did you think he would even listen to you long enough to ask your questions?"

"Assumptions can change everything, and it was hypocritical of me to assume that you would either throw me out or tell Dumbledore, but it was your assumptions of me that stopped me in the first place." Harry defended, "You are not exactly the most approachable person in the world, sir, even less so seeing as you hate me, so I took my chances."

"I do not hate you, Potter." Snape admitted grudgingly, "Your presence has not been as unbearable as one was assume." Harry looked at him somewhat stunned, that little spark of hope that he kept tucked away lighting up at the prospects.

"Thanks, I think." He replied.

"Though you make me question if you have anything in that thick skull of yours when you decide it is a bright idea to interview the Dark Lord, you are lucky to be alive." Snape stated.

"Everything was fine," Harry waved him off.

"What part of 'he is insane' did not register?" Snape questioned harshly and Harry crossed his arms.

"Seriously, a little faith would be nice." Harry complained, "I am alive and I got my answers."

"You actually spoke to him?" Snape asked sharply, "The Death Eaters said-,"

"The Death Eater's saw what they were supposed to see." Harry interrupted shortly, "Assumptions, as I said, can change everything."

"Why go through a supposed attack on your life if you had already spoken to him? You needn't have seen the Death Eaters at all."

"If I would have come back uninjured after the amount of time I was away it would have raised questions, ones that would have been difficult and counterproductive to answer." Harry pointed out, "This way, it explained to the Death Eaters how their Lord had returned, and it gave me the injuries so I could fake an ambush."

"What have you done, Potter?" Snape inquired slowly.

"I haven't done anything yet." Harry answered, "I've been given an offer and I have until the end of term to decide."

"I see," Snape murmured, "I hope you know what you have gotten yourself in to, Potter."

"So do I," Harry returned. He followed the man out of the chamber and sealed it shut, he wouldn't need to go down there just yet and he didn't want anyone else down there either.

"This has been informative, Potter." Snape said as they reached the end of the corridor. "You will have an appointment with Madam Pomfrey and myself tomorrow morning at 9am, do not be late."

"I'll be there." Harry assured and then Snape swept away. Something clicked in Harry's mind as he watched the man walk away. "Professor, if you knew my Aunt then you must have known my mother." Snape stopped and turned slightly.

"I did, Mr Potter, and she was the most wonderful person I have ever known." He answered and then he was gone. Harry remained where he was for a few moments stunned, before heading towards the RoR; he had a best friend to kill.

* * *

True to his word, Harry had not missed his appointment to have his hands fixed and Madam Pomfrey had been horrified that she had not spotted it when he had had his bones vanished. It had ached something fierce, and his hands tingled the day after, but it was worth it when three days later his hands were no longer shaking and he could hold on to things without the ever present vibrate. Harry had repeatedly thanked Snape for making the potions required to fix his hands and impulsively asked for a few catch up lessons to test his new control, surprisingly the man had agreed and he had had one session before the end of term.

One that he was exceptionally pleased with because it turned out when he wasn't shaking like a leaf he could actually brew things marginally well, he still needed practice but that would come with time. That and Snape didn't insult him once, nor did he glare, and they had a remarkably nice conversation. The man was incredible, Harry had decided, and he was looking forward to the start of school to pick up the lessons. During the last week, Sirius had turned himself in and been cleared of all charges, and the ministry had granted him custody of his godson almost immediately.

The problem with that was when Sirius returned to tell Harry the good news, they had been derailed by Dumbledore, who tried to insist that Harry return to the Dursleys. He had been silenced when Snape, of all people, stated that, even though he hated him, Harry would be better off with Black than with his relatives. The papers were going mad, the school was going mad and Harry, Ron and Hermione were going mad. The three of them fought, agreed, screamed and cried over their decision, it was life changing and they were running out of time. It wasn't until they had climbed on the train and had their usual visit from Malfoy did they come to a unanimous decision. Harry had written a brief letter, it wasn't really a letter, it was just one word that he sent off with Hedwig, knowing their lives were about to change forever.

_Yes._


End file.
